


Teacher AU: Assorted One-Shots

by im_fairly_witty



Series: Coco Teacher!AU [2]
Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-15
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2019-03-18 21:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 5,454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13690584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/im_fairly_witty/pseuds/im_fairly_witty
Summary: This is where we're assembling small one-shots from the teacher au that we've written over on Tumblr for your reading convenience. This is where small stories written in prose will end up if they aren't big or vital important enough to merit their own side chapters like "Two Cokes" does.(At the moment it's mostly a whole lot of Imector fluff.)[Smaller non-prose bits end up in "Coco Teacher!au: The Extra Scenes."]





	1. The Morning After: Breakup Backlash

**Author's Note:**

> It's the morning after Profe Hector accidentally let slip that he's been dating La Directora in class, he hasn't showed up for school yet and his students are worried they might have ruined everything.

Profe Héctor was late.

Which wasn’t unusual, but today the entire class was absolutely silent as they watched his empty desk, the ticking clock, the open classroom door. First period had started thirty minutes ago.

They had all messed up, badly, and every one of them knew it.

“Do, do you think he’s okay?” Sophia asked from the second row, her voice quivering.

“Do you think La Directora killed him?” Carlos whispered from the back.

Not one laughed. It hadn’t been a joke.

“This is all my fault!” Carla whimpered, sniffling.

The students around her leaned over to pat her on the back and try to whisper reassurances.

Yes, Carla had been the first one to shout “Imelda is la Directora!!” yesterday during last period, but only because the rest of them hadn’t been fast enough.

Profe Hector had been pulled out of the classroom for a “quick chat.”

And he’d never come back.

“Footsteps!” Jose hissed suddenly, “I hear footsteps!”

Everyone scrambled back to their seats, and when Profe Hector came through the door, wearing the same rumpled outfit he’d worn yesterday, wearing dark sunglasses, flinching hard when Carla’s lunchbox tumbled to the floor, no one said a word.

“I, uh, sorry I’m late everyone.” Hector said quietly, walking to his desk and setting down his backpack on his chair.

Everyone watched him log into his computer, the tapping of the keys echoing around the deathly quiet classroom.

“We’re um…” he said, despondently scrolling down his screen, looking like he was squinting even through his sunglasses.

He looked up at the class, who all looked back. No one dared ask.

“I’m having kind of a rough morning.” Profe Hector said, his voice cracking a little in a way that caused physical pain in most of his students. “Is is alright if we have a quiet discussion today? We can all sit in the floor and I’ll play some Beethoven? I’m sorry, I don’t know if I can handle a normal lesson today.”

Everyone nodded.

The class moved all the chairs and tables back as quickly and silently as they could, everyone keeping an eye on their teacher, who didn’t sit on the floor after turning in “moonlight sentada,” but actually laid down on it. Facedown on the short, hard carpet, forehead propped up on his folded arms.

The rest of class was spent very quietly trying to discuss how music made people feel different emotions, while wrestling with their own. Profe Hector didn’t fall asleep, he would pitch in a comment every now and then, voice muffled by the carpet, but by the time class finally ended everyone wished that he had.

The next day he would come to class without sunglasses, the day after that he would come to class with a smile, but when school ended a week later all of his students were still worrying wether or not he really was okay, and if maybe there was something they each could have done better to help.


	2. Home Late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Héctor and Miguel arrive home very late on a school night, someone has been waiting up for them and is not pleased.
> 
> (Takes place between chapters 8 and 9 in the main storyline of "The Way You Keep Me Guessing.")

Hector switched off his motorcycle, coasting it forward into his usual parking spot and then flipping out the kickstand. He glanced up to the second story of the apartment complex, but all the windows were dark. Including Imelda’s. 

He breathed a small sigh of relief as he pocketed the motorcycle’s keys, then started undoing the harness around his waist that was keeping the sleeping Miguel securely strapped on the bike behind him. 

They’d bought movie tickets to a much later screening than Hector had thought and Miguel had passed out almost the moment they’d left the theatre, making Hector grateful once again that he’d invested in the safety harness.

Hector picked up Miguel and started for the stairway. The boy sleepily moaned something before wrapping his arms around Hector’s neck and conking out again. Hector shifted to support Miguel better with one arm, using the other to hold the stair’s railing as they ascended. 

Reaching the top of the stairs Hector started to fish the keys out of his pocket again as they passed Imelda’s door to reach their own. They were nearly home free, if they could just-

“It’s a school night.”

Hector froze, then slowly turned with a sheepish grin to see Imelda standing behind him in her doorway. Her silky nightgown and loose hair bun did nothing to soften her sharply raised eyebrow and sternly folded arms.

“Have…you been waiting up for us?” Hector whispered, raising his own eyebrow.

“You haven’t picked up your phone in hours Hector,” Imelda whispered back fiercely, “it’s a Wednesday, Miguel wasn’t at your apartment, and Ernesto didn’t know where you two were. So yes, after midnight I started to worry.”

Hector grimaced, “Lo siento Imelda, we were at the movies and our tickets were a later showing than I thought. I forgot to turn my phone back on after we got out. I’m really, really sorry.”

Imelda hissed out a sigh, closing her eyes as she pressed her thumb against one of her eyebrows, something she only did when she was trying to reign in her frustration.

“I’m glad you two are safe.” Imelda said, opening her eyes again. “Don’t let me catch either of you showing up late to school tomorrow, alright?”

“Of course not, mi amor.” Hector said, stepping closer to take her hand and kiss her on the cheek, “We’ll be right on time, you get some sleep too alright?”

“Of course.” Imelda whispered, but her expression softened as she reached out with her other hand to gently pat Miguel’s hair. “Has his sleeping gotten any better? He looks exhausted.”

“His night terrors have started again.” Hector said quietly, both of them now looking at the boy sleeping against his shoulder. “I was hoping that staying up a little late with a movie would tire him out enough to let him really sleep tonight. We’ve had a couple nights of sleeping on the couch this week.”

“Well, you’d better get him to bed then.” Imelda said, all the hardness in her face gone, replaced by the gentle concern they’d both had so often over the last few weeks for Miguel. 

“I’m sorry for worrying you.” Hector whispered, “I’ll let you know next time if we’re going to be out this late.”

Imelda leaned in to give him a brief goodnight kiss. “Just if it’s past midnight alright?”

“Si, of course.” Hector said with a smile. “Buenas noches, Diosa”

“Goodnight, Hector.”

Imelda’s hand slipped out of his, and she stepped back into her apartment, softly closing the door behind her. 

Hector pulled his apartment keys out of his pocket as he walked towards his door. He’d have to be sure never to scare Imelda like that again, but he couldn’t help smiling a little as he unlocked his door. 

There was a soft, warm feeling spreading in his chest. It had been a very long time since someone had cared to wait up for him, and he hadn’t realized how much he’d missed it. 

 


	3. Closing Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A small one shot inspired by beautiful fanart from @maivanillaart on tumblr.

 

[ ](https://im-fairly-whitty.tumblr.com/image/173052932154)

Art by @[maivanillaart](http://maivanillaart.tumblr.com/post/173042141001) on tumblr

 

 

 “What are you still doing here?”

Hector looked up from his desk to see Imelda leaning in the doorway of his classroom, looking like she’d been watching him for a while.

“Just grading.” Hector smiled. He stretched in his seat, making his back crack in protest of having been in the same position for so long.

“School got out four hours ago, where’s Miguel?” Imelda asked, walking over to his desk, passing through the bars of sunset light slipping through the blinds.

“He went home with a friend today,” Hector said, shuffling together some of the loose papers on his desk. “He’s getting a ride home at eight, so I thought I’d use the time to get caught up on some things before heading out.”

“Well, you’re the last one here.” Imelda said, coming around the back of his chair.

Hector sighed in appreciation as she rubbed his shoulders, he let his head tip forward as she stroked the back of his neck.

“You’re wearing the tie.” She said.

Hector looked down at the blue and purple striped tie hanging from his neck and laughed, pulling an assignment closer to him on his desk so he could keep working. “I found it in the back of my closet when Ernesto was rifling for some old filming equipment, I thought you’d get a kick out of it.”

“I told you to never wear it on school property again.” Imelda teased.

She ran her fingertips up his neck and into his hair, making him completely lose his focus on the paper in front of him, in a way that had nothing to do with him not wearing his glasses.

“What can I say,” Hector said. He turned his chair and stood, now only inches from Imelda. “I’m just a dangerous rule breaker.”

Imelda snorted, pulling on his suspender straps to close the last inches between them.

“Hector Rivera, dangerous rebel.” She chuckled, looking up at him.

Her hair was starting to come loose on one side of her tight braid, a casualty of the long workday.

“I could be edgy if I wanted to.” Hector said, pretending to pout as he began pulling bobby pins out of her hair, collecting them one by one in his hand. “Probably.”

“You started crying while we were watching a nature documentary last week.” Imelda said, shaking her hair out as it tumbled loose around her shoulders.

“Don’t you pretend you didn’t want to cry too.” Hector said, putting his arms around her waist, savoring the gently tired warmth between them. “It was a sad one, you were going to cry too if that baby penguin hadn’t made it.”

“Well then, it’s a good thing it did.” Imelda said, smiling as she gently pulled on his suspenders.

Hector obliged, leaning down and kissing her. It was a slow, warm kiss, more give than take. The kind of kiss that could have comfortably lasted all night if they’d wanted. But it didn’t, and that was alright.

“Do you want a ride home?” Imelda asked, her arms around his neck.

“Sure, if you’re offering.” Hector said, nuzzling the side of her head, his hands resting on her hips. “Let me pack up and I’ll be right out.”

“Alright, I’ll wait for you outside.” Imelda said. She smoothing his tie straight and then turned and walked out of his classroom, already fishing in her purse for her car keys.

Hector smiled and hummed to himself as he gathered up the last dregs of his workload into his satchel. He already knew he wasn’t going to get any more done tonight. With him and Imelda both this tired, the evening would probably end up with them passing out on the couch together as soon as Miguel was in bed. But it was still important to keep up appearances.

He slung the satchel strap over his head and walked out of the classroom, pausing only to flip off the lights and lock the door behind him. 

His humming turned to wordless singing as he walked down the empty hallway, his tune echoing off the warmly shadowed linoleum, lit dimly by the gentle orange evening light outside.

Hector finished his nonsense song with a flourish as he pushed the exit door open and walked out into the warm evening air. 

He might be tired on days like this, but he was grateful for it anyway, it always reminded him how good it was to have someone to be tired with. Someone that that would always be game for a wonderfully perfect evening of doing nothing. 


	4. Saturday Morning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 100% Teacher au Imector fluff.

He must still be dreaming.

Hector lay awake as the gentle Saturday morning light slipped through the blinds. It lit the living room enough for him to see Imelda lying on the couch next to him, but not enough to wake her.

She was facing away from him, but Hector was entranced just watching her breathe, her rib cage gently rising and falling. Her dark hair, usually done up so sternly in one of her complicated braids, was loose, spilling back across her shoulders. They must have both fallen asleep last night before she’d had the chance to go back to her own apartment like usual.

Hector was convinced that if he touched her she would disappear, that this vision of loveliness would fade, leaving him alone with the familiar ache that had been his companion instead for so long. But he needed desperately to know if this was real.

He reached out and gently ran his fingertip along the edge of her shoulderblade, following its shape through the back of her T-shirt.

She was still there.

Imelda’s breathing changed slightly as she leaned into his touch, shifting under their blanket a little.

Hector’s own breath caught at the overwhelming beauty of her every move.

How had he gotten so lucky, what had he done so right to have his, (his!) diosa lying here beside him?

He gently threaded an arm around her waist, daring to dare as he pulled himself closer to her. She breathed in again, blearily waking up just enough to nestle her head up under his chin. She tucked the arm he had around her waist up to her chest, holding it close, as if for comfort, before settling back into the soft quiet again.

Yes. Hector was sure now that he really had died in his sleep. He must have to have achieved this kind of heaven.

He gently kissed the top of her head, blissfully breathing in her familiar scent of tea and mint. It was a Saturday, which meant Miguel would probably burst in soon, that Hector had papers to grade, that when Imelda woke up she would pretend to be flustered and say that she had shopping to do.

But he didn’t care about any of that right now. He would stay here, watching over the diosa sleeping in his arms until she left first.

He’d spent so many lonely nights and mornings dreaming of exactly this, he was going to treasure every single real moment of it that he was blessed with.

Hector closed his eyes.

If this quiet moment somehow lasted forever, he would be more than happy.


	5. Shoemaker

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A scrap of fluff

“I’m just not sure what to do.” Imelda sighed, resting her head back against Hector’s chest. “It’s hard to let people go, you know?”

Hector only hummed in reply, holding her close as he rested his chin on her head. They were reclining on her apartment’s couch together, having finished their Netflix show over half an hour ago. 

She took the arm he had wrapped around her waist and gently turned it, revealing the skull guitar tattoo on the inside of his forearm. He watched her as she gently smoothed her thumb up and down the design. 

“You could just get a new job.” Hector suggested. He nuzzled the side of her head, his breath tickling her ear.

“Oh? And what would I do instead?” Imelda asked, raising her eyebrow with a smile.

“Hmmm, you could be...a safari guide.” Hector said.

“Uh huh. Try again.” Imelda said.

“How about a shoemaker?” Hector lazily kissed the tip of her ear.

“Really?” Imelda looked up at him. “A shoemaker?”

“Why not?” Hector said, smiling. “Tia Elena would be thrilled, and they’ve already got all the equipment. You could be making your own boots in no time.” 

“I think I’ll stick with kids instead of shoes.” Imelda let go of his arm and turned a bit so she could rest against him, closing her eyes and breathing in his scent.

“I don’t know,” Hector said, pulling their blanket up over her as she snuggled closer. “I still think you could make a pretty good zapatera.”

“Maybe in another life.” Imelda yawned. 

“Maybe it’s for the best,” Hector said, running his fingers through her hair. “You’d probably end up taking over the shoe shop if you were there too long.”

“Whatever, I don’t know anything about shoes.” Imelda murmered, listening to his heart beat under her ear as sleep started to pull her down.

“You never know.” Hector said, kissing the top of her head.


	6. Imector Drabbles from Tumblr

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A collection of very small Imector drabbles after a night of taking first-line writing prompts on tumblr. Enjoy!

_[From the first time they were dating.]_

 

“I’m glad I get to spend time with you like this.” Hector said, his lopsided smile soft as he tipped his empty glass back and forth on the restaurant table, his eyes on the glass. “I mean, I know that you’d rather not go out to eat in public, but I’m really glad that we still get to do it sometimes.”

“I’m sorry it’s so complicated,” Imelda said, looking down as she picked at the tablecloth. “but with our-”

“Our jobs, your career. I know, it’s okay.” Hector said quickly, sliding his hand across to cover hers. “If this is what it takes to date you, then I’m completely fine with that. You’re worth it, I don’t mind at all.” 

Imelda smiled back, but as hard as she tried, she couldn’t help quickly glancing around the restaurant. Hector’s earnestness was one of the things that she  ~~lov~~ liked about him the most, but that didn’t mean it didn’t still catch her off guard every single time.  

Hector must have noticed her uneasy glance, that man always noticed everything, because he pulled his hand back, looking around as well. 

“I’m sorry.” Imelda said again, pressing her thumb to her eyebrow, a nervous habit she’d had as long as she could remember. “I’m just, it’s been a long time.” 

A lazy excuse, a meaningless excuse, an excuse that sounded only marginally better than  _I’m afraid this is going to end soon because these things always do and I like you too much._

“It’s alright, I promise.” Hector said, smiling and folding his arms. 

Under the table Imelda felt his foot gently bump against hers, and with a grateful smile she hooked her ankle around his. This she could do, this she could handle. 

She took a deep breath, forcing herself to relax as she turned the conversation elsewhere. He was just too sweet and understanding to resist for long.

For the moment she just had to ignore the looming omnipresent knowledge that there was no way they would be able to keep this kind of thing up forever.  

 

\---

 

“I got the groceries, but I couldn’t read the last thing on your list. Is this even close?” 

Hector looked over as Imelda unwrapped a small box from the grocery bags and handed it to him.

“I definitely did not put…miso soup…on the list.” Hector said, raising an eyebrow at the box. “What did the list say?”

“If I  _knew_ I wouldn’t have bought you Japanese soup packets.“ Imelda said, pulling the shopping list out of her purse and slapping it on the counter. “Your handwriting is a mess Hector, I’m surprised even you can make it out.”

“My handwriting is perfectly legible.” Hector sniffed.

“Only when you’re writing music and you actually slow down for once in your life.” Imelda said, rolling her eyes. “Otherwise, absolute chicken scratch.”

“You’re exaggerating, it clearly says…” Hector picked up the list, squinting at the last word. Words? It looked like it was one word. Probably.

“Please, tell me what it says, oh legible one.” Imelda said, smirking.

“It obviously says…leche.” Hector said, dropping the list on the counter and moving to put more of the groceries away.

“ _No manches_ ,” Imelda said, snagging the list, “that, right there, that is an M.”

“Okay, maybe it’s not  _totally_  legible.” Hector said, grinning sheepishly, “But the rest of the list was fine, right?”

“Next time do us both a favor and just text it to me?” Imelda said with a sigh, handing him a packet that belonged on the top shelf.

“Si, I will.” Hector promised, leaning against her as he stretched up to put the packet where it belonged.

 

\---

 

“I know I had three more in the fridge. You swear you don’t know where they went?” 

“Three what?” Hector called from the couch, studiously not looking up from the lesson plan he was working on. 

“The chocolate covered strawberries,” Imelda said, looking over from his fridge. “I told you I was saving those.”

“Chocolate covered…oh, you mean the ones from Monday?” Hector asked, shifting his glasses as he looked over the back of the couch. “They should just be on the second shelf, did they get moved back behind some of Ernesto’s food?”

There was a pause as she rifled through the fridge.

“No, I don’t see anything.” She called back.

“Lo siento ‘Melda, Ernesto might have eaten them.” Hector said, grimacing apologetically. “I’ll ask him about it later tonight.”

“Whatever, I don’t care.” Imelda said, waving a hand irritably. “I should have known better than to leave food I wanted in a bachelor apartment’s fridge.” 

“We can get some more tonight if you like.” Hector promised, turning back to his lesson plan and discreetly stuffing the visible edge of a chocolate strawberry wrapper back under the couch with the toe of his sock.  

 

\---

 

[Prompt: Héctor asks Imelda to help him make cascarones as an Easter treat for Miguel, as Héctor has no idea how to dye eggs]

 

 

“What are you doing?”

Hector looked up from where he was working at the kitchen table to see Imelda watching him with a very concerned expression.

“Coloring the eggshells!” He said cheerfully, holding up a half scribbled over one.

“With  _colored pencil_?” Imelda asked.

“I tried to find some of Miguel’s crayons,” Hector said, looking over his progress, “but all I could find were some pencils. You just have to be careful not to press too hard or the shell cracks and…” Hector trailed off as Imelda’s concerned look deepened. “…I, uh. Not colored pencil?”

“Not colored pencil.” Imelda said, dumping out her shopping bag on the table to reveal a bottle of vinegar and a packet of colored dye pellets.

“You know, that does make a lot more sense.” Hector said, frowning at his three unbroken colored eggshells. “I was wondering how on earth people make so many.”

“I’ll get the dye started.” Imelda chuckled, stopping to kiss the top of his head on her way to the sink. “But for the record, I think you did a marvelous job with your colored pencils.”

“Okay, but  _I_  get to crush these ones once they have confetti in them.” Hector said, putting his arm around them protectively.

“They’re all yours, Picasso.” Imelda assured him, trying not to laugh as she washed her hands.

 

\---

 

“Here. Blankets. Since you won't stop complaining about the cold.” 

Hector looked up just in time to get a faceful of comforter as Imelda unceremoniously dumped an armful of blankets on him.

“What? I wasn’t complaining.” Hector said, pushing the blankets of his face.

“You’ve been sighing dramatically for an hour.” Imelda said flatly, taking up her seat on the other end of the couch and opening her laptop again. “Which either means that you are whining about wanting to distract me from writing my quarter report like I  _expressly_  told you not to, or you’re complaining about it being cold in this apartment.”

“I uh, I guess it is pretty chilly.” Hector said, meekly wrapping one of the blankets around his shoulders. 

“That’s what I thought.” Imelda said, propping her feet back up on the coffee table. 

A long minute of silence stretched through the apartment, broken only by Imelda’s tapping keyboard.

“But, hypothetically, how much longer is the report going to take?”

“You are more than welcome to go back to your own apartment, Hector.”

“Could you maybe at least just take a break for a _little_  bit?”

“ _Hector_.”


	7. Imector Drabbles from Tumblr Part 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm still working my way through the Imector drabble prompts in my inbox, definitely not sorry. ;)

_[First time dating]_

 

“Thanks for taking care of the laundry,” Hector said, “you really don’t have to, though, I’m honestly fine.”

Imelda looked up from the washing machine to see Hector standing in the doorway of the laundry room. Or rather, leaning heavily against the doorframe, looking pale and exhausted.

“I told you to stay on the couch.” Imelda chided, “You’re going to faint if you keep getting up, you need to actually recover if you’re going to be staying home from work.”

“I swear I’m fine Imelda, it’s been two days, it was just some food poisoning. I don’t know why you and Ernesto are making such a big-”

He cut off, blinking hard as he swayed slightly on the spot.

“Careful!” Imelda cried, jumping forward to steady him before he fell over.

“Lo siento, I’m fine,” Hector said faintly, leaning almost his whole weight on her.

“You,” Imelda said, looping his arm over her shoulders and pulling him back towards the front room, “are going to lay back down on the couch, and you are not going to move until I give you permission. Claro?” 

He managed to walk with her back to the couch, which was fortunate. Just because she could fireman carry her boyfriend did NOT mean that she wanted to.

“Lay down.” She ordered, helping him collapse back onto the couch.

“Im fi-“

“If you tell me that you’re fine one more time I’m going to duct tape your mouth shut.” Imelda said sternly, pushing his shoulders so the he was reclining back against the arm of the couch again. She pulled a blanket up over him and handed him a mug that had been abandoned on a side table. “If you want to prove to me that you’re fine then finish your suero.”

“Aw, ‘Melda, I’m so sick of that stuff.” Hector said weakly, obediently taking the mug anyway.

“Well if you actually drank it instead of just ignoring it you wouldn’t be so dehydrated.” Imelda said, her voice getting softer as Hector’s eyes drifted closed.

Imelda sighed, taking the mug from him again as he slipped into unconsciousness. Ernesto may have been the one to take Hector to the hospital after finding him passed out on their bathroom floor two days ago, but nursing him back to health was a duty she had taken over.

A duty she realized she had to take seriously after Hector had asked her for a ride to work only hours after being discharged from the hospital.

Imelda brushed Hector’s hair back from his forehead for a moment as he slept, then tucked the blanket more firmly around him before getting up to return to the laundry room.

Seeing this stubborn persistence to sabotage his own recovery from a man that had moaned over a common cold last month was surprising, but had also been surprisingly endearing. It was a Friday evening, meaning that if all went well (and Hector actually started drinking what she gave him) he would be back on his feet and actually ready for work by Monday.

Imelda hummed to herself as she pulled an old Universidad de Guadalajara t-shirt of Hector’s from the washer, shaking it out before setting it in the laundry basket for hanging.

Wether he liked it or not, she was going to keep Hector alive, and if that meant putting him under temporary house arrest then so be it. She did not make a habit mothering others, but this was an exception she was willing to make.

 

\----- _[Second time dating]_ \-------

 

“Come here, you’re shivering.” Hector said, reaching out a hand.  
  
“I already told you, I am not getting in that death trap.” Imelda said, eying the hammock Hector had strung up on his balcony.  
  
They’d come out to watch the rare evening rainstorm together from the dry safety of the apartment balcony, but Imelda had opted for the chair in the corner of the tiny patio instead.  
  
“I can’t believe that you’re afraid of a hammock.” Hector chuckled, looking completely at ease as he sat on the precarious fabric, his legs hanging over the side. “Miguel loves it.”

“Miguel would jump off a building if you mentioned that it looked fun.” Imelda said dryly, keeping herself safely on her chair. “It’s going to flip over any moment now and you’re going to break your nose.”  
  
“Aw, come on.” Hector waved her over.  
  
“I don’t-“  
  
“Just trust me.”  
  
Imelda sighed a very long sigh, but got up. She rolled her eyes as she walked to the edge of the hammock, standing in front of Hector with her arms folded.  
  
“All you have to do is center yourself on the hammock.” Hector reached over and gently unfolded her arms, taking her hands in his as he looked up at her. “There’s a lot of extra fabric on the sides that keeps you from falling out or tipping over. I wouldn’t have bought it if it weren’t safe.”  
  
“Says the man who rides a motorcycle.” Imelda said, raising an eyebrow. 

“Says the man who taught  _you_  how to ride a motorcycle.” He said with a smile, stroking his thumbs across the backs of her hands. “Sit here on the edge next to me. Nothing crazy, you can get off if you’re scared.”  
  
“I’m not scared.” Imelda said, eying the treacherous looking fabric. “I’d just rather not end up on my face.”  
  
“‘Meldaaaa.” Hector said, a wheedling tone in his voice.

Imelda hung back for another moment, the sound of the cascading rain behind her. She could tell that he wasn’t going to give this up, and she could feel his hands shiver slightly on hers. 

“You’re the one that’s cold.” She said, reluctantly sitting on the hammock beside him. “You’re wearing a t-shirt and shorts in a rainstorm.“

“It’s not like we’re getting wet.” Hector said, smiling as she settled beside him. “And it’s warmer with two of us anyways.”

Imelda nearly flinched as the hammock swayed beneath her, but kept a straight face, gingerly leaning back and letting her feet hang off the side like Hector’s. 

“See? Both of us survived.” Hector said, pulling her closer. “I told you it would be fine.”

“My hero.” Imelda said, but she allowed herself to smile as she adjusted on the hammock, leaning her head against his chest. She hugged his arm as he rested his chin on her head.

It actually really wasn’t all that bad, especially with the noise of the rain washing over them, the humid cool breeze drifting past. 

“Do you want to try laying down?”

“Hector I  _just_  sat down, I do  _not_  trust it yet.”

“Okay, okay, fair.”

“I still don’t know why you-”

“Let’s just focus on the rain.”

 

\----

 

“Did you steal my shirt again?” 

“What?” Imelda looked up from where she was sitting on the couch.

Hector stood in the living room doorway, an incredulous look on his face as he stared at her. 

“That’s my shirt.” Hector said, pointing. “Where did you get it?” 

His smile widened as he came and sat down next to her on the couch.

“I…what? No, I’ve had this forever.” Imelda said, looking down at the old Universidad de Guadalajara t-shirt she always slept in. 

“Noooo, it’s definitely mine, and I haven't seen it since when we broke up last spring.” Hector grinned, tugging at the hem of the shirt. “Which means that you  _kept_ it, and you’ve worn it  _so much_ that you  _forgot_.” 

“ _Or_ , it means that it got left at my place that time I did your laundry when you were sick.” Imelda said, thinking fast. But she could feel herself blushing as she remembered that Hector was exactly right. “I probably thought it was some ratty thing I picked up at a thrift store.”

“You are adorable when you’re lying.” Hector said, leaning forward and kissing her jaw. “You missed me.”

“Shhhhh, stop it, it’s just a t-shirt.” Imelda said.

She tried to push him back, but he just leaned forward more, wrapping an arm around her waist as he kissed up her jaw and behind her ear. 

“Youuuu missed meeeee.” He sang softly, his breath tickling her ear.

“Shut up.” Imelda said, trying and failing not to laugh. “So what if I did?”

Hector kissed her on the mouth, smiling against her lips as he pulled her against him. Imelda leaned in, letting him deepen the kiss, savoring his deliciously familiar scent of lavender laundry soap and pencil shavings as she wrapped her arms around his neck. 

She’d never tell him, but she now remembered very clearly why she’d kept the shirt after their breakup: this exact smell. His smell. It had faded after a week or two, but she’d kept the shirt anyway, eventually forgetting where she’d got it after wearing it every night. 

Having Hector was infinitely better, but she had no intention of giving up the shirt.

Although, maybe she’d let him wear it a couple times. Just to get his scent back on it again.  


End file.
